A pity, en effet, that she dare not truly desire him to rescue her. The jailers robbed the prisoners: the prisoners robbed one another. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone. Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed to the window with a torch. Light flooded the uncarpeted chamber, revealing the decayed state of the place.
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